


Unsettled

by thelma_throwaway



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, MultiSaku - Freeform, Pining, Sasuke's home, light Sasuke torture, very short fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelma_throwaway/pseuds/thelma_throwaway
Summary: anything she does now seems to unbalance him
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Inuzuka Kiba, Haruno Sakura/Nara Shikamaru, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 9
Kudos: 77





	1. Unsettled

**Author's Note:**

> v short chapters! I recommend viewing it all as one page.

The beds are side by side, as if a fractured mirror stands between them, reflecting a distortion in time and fate-- dark hair, brooding pout, left arm bandaged and half-gone on one side, blonde hair, radiant grin, right arm disintegrated to the elbow but already pink and healing on the other.

As in long gone times, Sakura stands between them with worry knitting her brow as she scribbles away, chewing her lip in a way he finds unsettling.

In fact-- anything she does now seems to unbalance him, from her admonishment to shut up as she healed them to the way she's looking at him from behind her clipboard, devoid of adoration, obsession, love.

She sighs and moves to unwrap Sasuke's bandages without meeting his eyes and he instinctively pulls away, "Shouldn't we wait for the doctor?"

Sakura growls, yanking hard at the tail end of the wrapping, and Naruto laughs with a wild grin, " _Teme_ I've been trying to tell you--- Sakura-chan **IS** the doctor."


	2. Shika-kun

When he thinks about it, it's not an unlikely pair.

They're sitting together at a table outside the hokage's office, heads together and chattering to themselves despite the hustle of people around them moving Tsunade out and Kakashi in.

Sakura looks pleased, happy even, sorting animatedly through a mess of loose papers. She keeps smiling at her tablemate, who in turn keeps rubbing the bridge of his nose and yawning to hide his grin. _They look cute together_ , Sasuke's brain offers viciously.

Sakura enjoys rules and books and doing crosswords on a Saturday night. Despite appearances, Shikamaru is an intellectual-- the kind of guy who likes puzzles and strategy games, who pretends to hate undoing knots, who senses Sasuke's approach by the flash of refracted light on her hitai tae.

"Traitor-san's here to pick you up," he yawns, loud enough for Sasuke to hear as he begins to gather up his papers. "Thanks again for helping me get these in order--- what a pain."

"Hn." Sasuke stands behind him and averts his gaze, unable to stand the sheen of mirth in Sakura's eyes at the cruel little nickname the Rookie 9 had lovingly dubbed him. Some more lovingly than others.

Sakura's face slides from an ( _adorable_ , his treacherous brain provides) look of concentration to surprise as she registers the interuption, finally settling in a girlish smile as she turns to her companion, "No problem, Shika-kun, I might be the only person in the village who can read Tsunade _and_ Kakashi's handwriting."

Shikamaru vacates the table with a lazy salute and a promise to let her know if he needs any more help. Inwardly, Sasuke congratulates himself for not projectile vomiting at the cloying, syrupy sweet familiarity--- _Shika-kun_. When had that happened?

He wracks his brain, trying to recall who else she called _kun_ besides him. Or she used to. He can't remember if she does any more or not, it seems like she never addresses him directly at all. He regrets volunteering to gather her for lunch with Naruto. Now they're alone and she's looking at him like she has since his return-- like she can't put a name to his face but still wants to be polite.

"Where's Naruto?" she says instead of hello, and he sees the contentment drain from her as she fixes her attention somewhere north of his eyes.

"Late," he snorts before lying. "Sent me here."

She gathers her things with a sigh. "He _really_ wants us to talk."

"Hn."

"Thats what I said, too." She smiles a little and he wonders if she's making fun of him. It's very possible.

They walk in silence. A few blocks from the ramen shop his stops in his tracks and counts the seconds it takes for her to realize he's no longer beside her.

_ten... eleven....twelve.._. he tallies painfully. In the past she would have turned immediately, called his name breathlessly, demanded to know what's wrong.

She's halfway down the block before she notices though he wonders if it's for dramatic effect.

"Eh?" She waves at him to catch up. "C'mon I'm hungry!"

_She's treating me like I'm Naruto,_ he pouts inwardly.

"You ok?" She presses a palm against his forehead but it doesn't tremble or sweat, there's nothing tentative or worshipful in her touch. A medics hand, sweeping over any random patient.

"Fine. Just... testing a theory."

Sakura's brows draw together in confusion, bracketing the slim diamond at the center of her forehead. He hadn't noticed it before, or noticed it but hadn't put together what it meant. Or put together what it mean but hadn't been able to believe it.

Finally she laughs and shakes her head and tugs him down the road, her hand lingering on the crook of his arm, smiling up at him with the tip of her tongue sticking out to let him know she's just teasing, and its almost enough to make up for what she says next.

"You're so weird now, Uchiha."


	3. Lost Ground

The day is so hot and clear and perfect that Training Ground 3 blurrs under the noon sun, and for a brief mirage of a moment he thinks he's 13 again. It's not the first time-- he experiences the sandy, bitter irritation about twice a day, as if every drop of blood, every scream, every inch of hardscrabble victort had just been a long, disturbing dream.

He's knocked, literally, from his reverie by a bone crunching shot across his jaw, and he manages to deflect the worst of it with a haughty jerk of his chin as he kicks his assailant away. Sasuke's mouth goes dry as the haze clears and he recognizes the growling figure skittering backwards as Sakura-- hard wherever she was once soft, stubbornness transmuted to radiant determination.

She spits hard in the dirt, still huffing to catch her breath, and a prickling blush raises up on his chest---- struck at once by the fact that he's in deep trouble.

His eyes swim again and he shakes his head hard to hear her clearly as she growls, "Told you not to go easy."


	4. Tenuous

Its a fine balance. 

Looking just engaged enough in the conversation not to sour the tenuous acceptance of his peers while still perfectly tuning out what’s being said. 

Kiba-- reeking of wet dog and ever-grinning-- is carving a curvacious silhouette in the air with the edge of his palms and a laugh goes up around the table. Across from Sasuke, Naruto blushes as the pantomime becomes more graphic and when he chokes on his drink as Kiba demonstrates a firm slap to an imaginary ass, Sasuke considers it might be someone they know.

The slap, Naruto's blush, the way Shikamaru's eyes flash to him as the reenactment gains momentum. He flexes his jaw to break up the tension he has no memory of collecting there and Kiba's lascivious snarl confirms it all.

"So-- basically, I realized if I low-grade annoy her for long enough," he laughs, slurping at the beer in front of him, "Haruno will hate fuck me for a week or two before telling me to get lost. Annoy her somemore-- the cycle continues. Been doing it for a year and I don't think she's even noticed."

"Careful," yawns Shikamaru. 

"Is that advice from experience, _Shika-kun_?" Choji pauses his steady progress through a plate of barbacue skewers to elbow his friend. They all laugh, even Naruto, which means something is known, some _thing_ he does really want to hear about because he actually kind of likes Shikamaru. 

The Nara's bland indifference, garnished wit skepticism and a brutal practicality, had become a cold comfort during his trial. He'd sat bored but attentive behind Tsunade for the duration, even lodging objections on Sasuke's behalf as things got heated. It would be a shame to have to hate Shikamaru, obligated by a set of feelings he's not ready to decipher just yet.

"No," he huffs, but rises to get another drink from the bar, "Simple observation."

Sakura arrives shortly after, greeting Naruto with a rough hug from behind and Sasuke with only a startled smile. He notices that she chooses her seat to be able see both Kiba and Shikamaru without moving her head. _Tracking both targets at once,_ he thinks tartly, then admonishes himself for being a jealous prude. 

Its hard to miss the way Kiba's tongue keeps gliding over his sharpened canines or how Shikamaru's brow wriggles reflexively when she touches her chin or presses her lips to her glass or just shifts in her seat.

He notices because he's schooling his own body not to do the same, a task that becomes more difficult with twist and gesture of her toned wrists. She's telling a story and it's-- it’s about them, as genin. She hooks a thumb at him and then points angrily at Naruto before throwing her hands up in the air and everyone laughs and laughs.

"That’s really how it happened?" Hinata has softly appeared under Naruto's arm and the blond nods emphatically. She looks shyly at Sasuke and raises a brow. “Is that true, Sasuke-kun?”

Its the first time all night anyone has addressed him directly, sought his eyes, acknowledged him at the table. He wants to say something that will endear her even though he has no idea what they’re talk about. 

“Something like that,” he sighs and Naruto’s face falls theatrically as he hops to his feet, cursing him with happy threats. The moment eases with laughter and he feels Sakura smile on his cheek--- he doesn’t turn to catch it, not wanting to see it finally fall away. Just lets it radiate as the conversation flows again.

By the same logic, he leaves when things are still bright and happy. In a drink or two they’ll all pair off, so he politely takes his leave. There’s a swell of tipsy protest but no one stops him or follows. He thinks for a second as he pushes under the awning that Sakura might slide from her seat.

But it passes and he’s alone. Again. 


	5. Solid

He almost breaks— tips, trips, snaps, combusts— the first time she looks at him, _sees_ him, like he’s real .

Sasuke knows the difference between looking and seeing, the parts of the brain and body that fire when something is thoroughly understood.

She’s always looked at him like something otherworldly, first like a godling and then like a ghost. The moment is fleeting, her eyes finally-- _finally_ , after years of staring but never seeing-- meeting his, like he’s something solid. 

He knows the feeling, has felt himself slowly materializing over the last year as the fog dissipates, realizing he’s the type of person who feeds strays and can’t keep a plant alive, who hates long meetings and is prone to sudden anxiety when he doesn’t hear from his friends all morning.

Who _desperately_ needs to feel the firm press of her palm on him before he evaporates again. 


End file.
